


Turning II

by padawanhilary, Telesilla



Series: Turning [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Animal Transformation, Community: wtf27, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-27
Updated: 2006-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padawanhilary/pseuds/padawanhilary, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlando and Sean meet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning II

Orlando wanders through the square, bartering now and then for things he'll need to make the journey over the mountains. His pack is considerably larger, now, and he's bought himself another horse to carry it. The odd half-night he spent with the mercenary is neither as strange nor as important as it was; he fully expects he's gained half a day on Sean and that they will not be crossing paths again.

He's startled when he sees the man himself, wondering how quickly a mercenary moves through woods and if Orlando himself is so slow.

"Sean," he greets carefully, touching the mercenary's arm. "I never thought I'd see you again."

"Orlando," Sean says, shifting a cloth bag to his other hand so he can grip Orlando's wrist. "I'm glad you made it here safely." He's found himself wondering about the boy in the days since he met Orlando and he honestly is glad that he didn't end up dead in a ditch somewhere.

Orlando says nothing of the surprise he sees in Sean's eyes. He's well aware he can pass as someone far younger than himself -- and more.

"I told you I'd make my way," Orlando grins, and he waves a hand toward his horse. "Are you resting long, or moving on today? I'm straight for the mountains, myself." _Now why would you say that, Orlando?_ he wonders. _He'll think you're wanting to tag along again, and it's no good answering where you're bound for; no one deliberately seeks out wizards in the north countries._

"We're heading out tomorrow," Sean says, looking Orlando over. "Look, I don't want to insult you, but ... do you fight? Or can you care for horses?" Before Orlando answers, Sean continues. "Master Lobardi is still looking for another guard or two, and he could use a few more horse handlers as well."

Having learned his lesson about pride, Orlando doesn't bite out a remark about being able to take care of himself. He nods instead, watching his horse. "I can work horses. I apprenticed with a stablemaster in the south."

_Two very different apprenticeships,_ Sean thinks. "Good," he says. "Come with me to my inn and I'll introduce you. Master Lombardi's a good sort; I've never worked for him but I know those who have and he's said to deal fairly with his people."

Once again, Orlando has the sense that there are secrets here, but it's more a relief than an annoyance. Sean's tone is clear and fair, the tone that comes from long history and education. Orlando wonders at it for a moment, then discards it. He doesn't need anyone's secrets -- and no one needs his.

"Thank you," he says yet again. "That would be very helpful."

* * *

They've concluded the negotiations with the caravan master and now Sean smiles at Orlando, a little more pleased with life and with this odd companion. I'll get a bonus for recruiting you," he says. "Let me buy you dinner and a glass of wine."

Orlando opens his mouth to thank Sean yet again -- the wage was more than Orlando had expected. Honestly, _all_ of this was more than Orlando had expected. He smiles, pulling Sean close in an impulsive, quick hug. "I would swear I've never thanked anyone as much as I have you," he laughs.

"Least I could do after chasing you off the other night," Sean says with a shrug. He beckons the one of the boys serving tables and orders two meals and a bottle of wine. "Sit down, Orlando. Enjoy your last civilized meal for a while."

Orlando sits, smiling, and opens his cloak in the warmth of the inn. "You didn't chase me off. I was being stubborn." It's easier to admit it now, with Sean being so steadfastly kind to him and the promise of a trek over the mountains that is not so lonely and cold this time.

"I would have shared warmth with you," Sean says. "The offer's still open if you wish it." He looks at Orlando. "We both have secrets, that much is clear. But I'm not lying to you when I say that I'm not looking for romance. I'm not a romantic man."

"Believe me," Orlando mutters, glancing to one side, "neither am I."

"Well then," Sean says. "We understand each other." He goes silent for a time as he eats his dinner, glancing up at Orlando. The boy is dressed normally enough, his clothes good but not of any great quality. Sean can't place him, and that's a little disturbing. Orlando had mentioned two different apprenticeships, and Sean can only assume that he left each master before advancing to journeyman.

Orlando eats; he's done enough of sizing up, and he's _hungry._ The wine is good, and it's been a while since Orlando has had such a thing, so it's not long before a glass of it's in his head. He feels lazy and relaxed, belly full, body warm. He pushes back from the heavy table and sighs, content.

"Hope you enjoyed that," Sean says with a grin. "It's going to be a long time before we get anything half as good." He finishes the wine in his glass. "Another glass?"

"Yes, please, thank you," Orlando nods, feeling lax enough to want more of it. "I wonder. Are you always so good to strangers wandering into your camp as I did?"

"No, of course not," Sean says, gesturing with his glass at the serving girl. "Only mostly naked, handsome strangers." Handsome is putting it mildly; Orlando's almost beautiful in a way that reminds Sean of paintings he's see in southern temples.

Flushed as he is from the wine, Orlando smiles and tips his head down. The flattery is welcome now, and he gives Sean a coy look.

When the girl brings the wine, Sean smiles lazily. "Shall we finish this in the bath house? I've reserved it for a time tonight."

Orlando watches Sean, smiling back at him. "You've thought of everything, haven't you? If I didn't know better, I'd half think you _were_ being romantic."

"Practical," Sean says. "And I'll admit to possibly being decadent, but no more than that. I want a hot bath and some good wine before I go climbing the damn mountains this time of year." He picks up his glass, leaving a copper coin on the table for the serving girl. "I'd have done this if I were alone."

"Very well," Orlando sighs, still smiling. "I suppose it will be good..." he takes up his glass and tips his head, leaning close enough not to be overheard, "...to feel warm skin against mine." He lets his gaze drop down over Sean's body.

"I hope so," Sean says. He leads Orlando to the bathhouse at the back of the inn and begins stripping his clothes, making sure at least one of his knives is close at hand.

Orlando has to crook a brow at that even as he strips himself down. "Still thinking I'll come at you?" he asks as they slip into the water.

"Old habit," Sean says, sighing happily at the feel of the hot herb scented water. "Gods, but that's good."

That's good enough; at least the man trusts Orlando enough not to assume he'll get knifed. He settles back as well, moaning softly as low aches heat up and give way. Sipping his wine again, he realizes he's just sodden enough to be forward, and it's been so long. _So_ long. He slips a hand to Sean's thigh under the water, sliding it up just high enough to be improper before stopping and holding it there.

"I like a man who knows what he wants," Sean says, sliding his hand over Orlando's hand. "Tell me what you like, what you want."

"I want you to hold me down," Orlando tells him, and he knows there's far more urgency behind it than he means there to be. "I want you to keep me, stop me getting away from you." He feels feverish all of a sudden, and he swallows, dropping his head down in mild embarrassment.

"So you like it rough, do you?" Sean says, managing to keep the bitterness out of his voice. _They all say that to me. At least a boy like this won't be able to say otherwise later._

"No," Orlando replies, but in his tone the bitterness is evident. "I prefer the gentleness of a lover." He is unsure how to explain that against his requests, though, and tips his head down. "I want whatever you can give me," he sighs.

"I'm sorry," Sean says, "but you confused me." _Really, the boy is maddening. If only he weren't so pretty and so available._ He looks at Orlando and turns his hand, gripping Orlando's wrist. "I can hold you and be gentle. In fact, I'd like that."

Orlando leans in close at that, fixing his mouth on Sean's and kissing him hungrily. Gentle but strong, _perfect_, and yet Orlando cannot explain why. It's almost too much to bear.

Keeping on hand tight on Orlando's wrist, Sean responds eagerly to the kiss. Here at least, they both know what they want and Orlando's mouth on Sean's leaves no doubt of his experience.

It's easy to straddle Sean's hips, then, planting his knees on the marble of the bath to kiss him properly and grip his shoulders.

"Not here," Sean murmurs when he can finally bring himself to pull away from the kiss. "If this is the last chance to be civilized, let's do this upstairs in a bed, all right?"

"A bed would be lovely," Orlando nods, and he manages to get off of Sean enough to let them out of the bath. A bed is something he hasn't had in weeks, and it sounds too perfect to deny any longer.

Sean quickly washes up and then, climbs out of the bath. "That's nice," he says, noticing a tattoo on the front of Orlando's right hip. "Is that a dragon?"

"Yes," Orlando nods.

He reaches down to play his fingertips over the dragon, a swirling, Eastern design. "You might say I'm a believer." He gives Sean a wry smile.

"The Lady from the East is a hard Mistress," Sean said, wondering how on Earth Orlando had become a devotee of the dragon goddess.

The wry look turns almost amused. "So they tell me." Orlando steps closer to slip a hand up Sean's arm. "Please tell me we're not going to stand in the baths discussing the Lady?"

"No, not at all," Sean said, Pulling Orlando close for another kiss. "Let's put on as much as we need to be decent and go to my room."

Orlando does it, tugging on his breeches only, and then gestures for Sean to lead. The instant they're behind the closed door, he presses himself fully against Sean to kiss him, lonely too long to be concerned about his own forwardness.

Wrapping his arms around Orlando's waist, Sean holds him close as they kiss. It's good, damn good to be close to another person like this and he fully intends to make the most of it.

Sean is strong, even relaxed -- though Orlando suspects he seldom relaxes completely. He stretches up, wrapping his arms around Sean's neck and kissing him more fully, parting his lips, sliding his tongue along Sean's.

"Gods," Sean finally murmurs. "Want you so much."

"Mmm," Orlando agrees quietly. He arches up, pressing more firmly against Sean's body, and then pulls back again. "Tell me how you would have me," he breathes.

"Just what you asked for," Sean says reaching for one of Orlando's wrists. "I'd like to hold your wrists and then take you."

There are still choices to be had, but Orlando thinks that is enough talk for now. He goes to the bed and stretches out on his back, legs spread and bent to present himself. He rests his wrists above his head. "Take me, then."

For a moment Sean wonders if this is all too easy, and he resolves to make an extra offering at the temple before they leave in the morning. For now, however, he'll take what this gorgeous boy is offering, and he slides his loose pants off before reaching into his pack for a small clay bottle of almond oil.

Joining Orlando on the bed, Sean leans down and runs his tongue over the tattooed dragon. "Lovely work," he says.

Orlando sighs, reaching down to stroke his fingers through Sean's hair. "The artist would thank you," he breathes, voice catching as Sean's tongue laps at his skin again.

Sean chuckles at that, sitting up to slick his fingers with the oil. "How long has it been?" he asks, stroking a fingertip across Orlando's hole. "I don't want to hurt you."

Another hiss of air, and Orlando whispers, "Months. Don't be too gentle; I'm strong."

"Oh, are you?" Sean asks, pushing a finger into Orlando and watching his face intently.

Staring back, Orlando draws in another breath, mouth falling open. "You have wonderful fingers." He presses his hips up. "More."

Although Sean does give him more -- working another finger into Orlando -- he's still careful. It's good to be with someone like this, good to explore a new body.

It isn't long before Orlando is working his hips up insistently in a hungry rhythm. The hand not petting Sean's hair has given up its spot near Orlando's head and is twisted in the coverlet now. "I want you," he murmurs in between gasps.

"You'll have me," Sean says, applying just a little more oil to Orlando's body before moving into position. As he slowly pushes into Orlando, he can't help groaning. "Gods...."

The press of Sean burying himself makes Orlando groan in response. He raises his hands again, pressing them to the bed, offering himself up. _Wanting_ Sean to take it. It's been so long.

"Beautiful," Sean murmurs, reaching out to press Orlando's hands to the bed. He begins to move, fucking Orlando with strong, slow strokes, wanting this to last as long as possible.

Orlando grunts and moans rhythmically with the deep, hard ache of Sean inside him. There is pain, but it's so welcome next to the pleasure after so long; whatever Sean's view of casual encounters and lack of attachment -- something Orlando really does, in theory, agree with -- this is enough for now. This is _perfect._

Even though he's set up this rhythm to please both himself and Orlando, Sean is soon having to grit his teeth in an effort not to just let go and slam into the body beneath him. "So good," he says, his hands tightening on Orlando's. "So damn good."

"More," Orlando breathes, feeling the tension in Sean's body. He folds his thighs, clutching Sean to him tightly with his legs. "Harder."

Sean obliges with a loud groan; fucking Orlando is proving to be almost too good and again -- in a distant corner of his mind -- he wonders about that. But not too much, as he's far too busy pounding into the body underneath his.

"Ah--" Orlando gasps, and then words are pouring from his mouth, the dialect of his mother in the Southern country. _It's good, so good, don't stop, more, harder, so perfect --_ He scarcely realizes when the pleasure changes, so does his tongue, the language of his family giving way to a darker one, an older one, sprinkled with the language he uses himself, every day. _Fuck me, that's it, take me, hold me down. Fuck harder, don't let go--_

Even though Sean can't understand a word, Orlando's urgency is evident and Sean responds by slamming into Orlando with all his strength. It's easy enough to forget his promise to be gentle, Orlando's voice and words seem to compel Sean to give him exactly what he wants.

Orlando can feel himself nearing climax, and when Sean pounds in that much harder, it slams through him, wrenching a shudder out of him with a deep, hungry cry. It leaves him feeling lost and disoriented, though he has no idea why that would be so.

Sean was already close, and the way Orlando cries out, not to mention the way his body tightens around Sean's cock, is more than enough to trigger Sean's orgasm. With a loud groan, he comes, clinging to Orlando's hands through it all.

Melting into the bed, Orlando breathes slowly, forcing himself to relax. He feels as though he went elsewhere for a moment, and finally turns to look at Sean.

"Thank you," Sean says, unlacing his fingers from Orlando's. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you did I?"

Orlando has to smile. "You hurt me," he nods. "I loved it."

"I'm sorry," Sean says, feeling guilty even with Orlando's reassurance. "I don't know what came over me."

_Oh, no._ Orlando closes his eyes. "It was good. I wanted it. I did." He slides his hands up over Sean's shoulders and kisses him. Even this does not make sense after his assertions that he preferred gentleness, but he's too tired to sort it out now.

Kissing him back, Sean remains a little worried. It's not like him to let go like this and yet again, he wonders just who -- _or what?_ \-- Orlando is.

_-tbc-_


End file.
